Black Sunrise
by CrimsonSeven
Summary: One by one, the Imperial Provinces secede from the Empire. Can Cyrodiil survive the onslaught, or will it be overrun by the rebels? Only the heroes of both sides of the bloody war can dictate its outcome.
1. Chapter 1: The Black Winds of War

PART ONE: THE BLACK WINDS OF WAR

He was an assassin, summoned in the dead of night and for reasons unknown. He was given five minutes notice to gather his belongings, his silver dagger, his bow, and his quiver of arrows with raven's feathers attached to the end of the shafts, and board a boat bound for Summerset Isle. Upon arriving in the capital many days and many nights later, he was hastily rushed to meet with the king in a strictly secret affair at the stroke of midnight. As he was seated in a dark room, the side door creaked open, and imperious footsteps approached.

"You're Halcir?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. We have business to discuss."

"We damn well better. I don't travel for thirteen days by sea just for a run-of-the-mill dispatching job."

"I know you don't," the king replied with a hint of slyness. He produced a thin scroll of parchment and handed it to Halcir. As he read it, the king could see a flicker of emotion cross his face.

"Never pulled one of these before."

"Nobody has. We are willing to offer you 2,750,000 gold for the completion of this task."

"Why the enormous tag?"

"You and I are elves. Although Altmer and Bosmer, we both bear the same evil weights which were attached by the Empire so long ago. But now her hold has been weakened by lack of an emperor. Now is the time to drive our dagger into her throat and seize what we have been wrongfully denied for so long."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"You have forty-eight hours to submit a report to me concerning your basic plan and any assistance you may need. Three days after that, I will provide you with any materials you request as well as transport to the area of operations. Once your mission is complete, you are to contact me, and I'll send in the cavalry."

"I'll get right on it," Halcir said with a grin, his first in twelve years. This ought to be fun.

Five days later, Halcir was on a boat headed for Anvil.

Upon arriving in the port city, Halcir quickly proceeded to the stables outside of town, only speaking to purchase a white horse to the pricey tune of 4,000 gold. He then rode non-stop to the Imperial City, where he dismounted and walked to the gates of the prison. He then pasted on a bright smile and strolled into the Imperial Legion offices, where the desk officer greeted him.

"I'd like to join the Imperial Legion, please!" he said, dripping with enthusiasm.

"You're in luck. We're in desperate need of more police forces for the Imperial City. Lots of unrest there these days. Are you experienced?"

"Silly, I'm a Bosmer, straight from Valenwood! Born and raised! One gold says I can shoot that bottle of mead straight through the cork if you tip it sideways."

"You're on," the desk officer replied, placing the bottle of mead on its side. Halcir took out his bow and strung one of his signature black arrows. With exquisite care, he drew back and fired, and the arrow soared through the air with unnatural slowness. The tip of the arrow just pierced the cork, leaving the bottle intact.

The astonished desk officer handed him a slip of paper and informed him that he was to start tomorrow. Acting visibly pleased, Halcir thanked him profusely and headed to the Market District to buy a house. Upon settling in at the Waterfront, he promptly vomited into the lake, praying he'd never have to put on such a charade again.

He reported at the Legion Barracks the next day to find, much to his chagrin, that he was being posted to the Waterfront. To his pleasant surprise, he found that the next rotation was only a week away, and that he and his division would be posted to the Elven Gardens, in the heart of the Imperial City. During his week on duty he gained a reputation as a kind, just, and personable officer of the watch, and he was made a captain of a small team of four watchmen on his sixth day. The officers in his division enjoyed his stories and jokes after hours, and enjoyed his company. However, they found it strange that each night he did not stay at the barracks, instead preferring to sleep in his own house. There, he made his plans, checked them, tested them in his mind, and prepared himself for the coming day.


	2. Chapter 2: International Incident

PART TWO: INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT

On his third day in the Elven Gardens, he put his plan into action. After informing the king, he set out with a small sack he hid inside his armor. At 10:45, he saw a Altmer walking out of his house and going into Luther Broad's Boarding House. There he inconspicuously patrolled outside, lying in wait. At 11:07, the same Altmer exited the building along with seven other people. Halcir quickly unslung his bow and strung an arrow, aiming it at the Altmer. He then gave a loud shout, which attracted the attention of his fellow officers and of the townspeople.

"HALT, ALTMER SPY!"

The Altmer gave a puzzled look, querying, "…Pardon me?"

"Don't play dumb with me, spy! I've been tracking you for months now. Come quietly or things are gonna get messy."

This infuriated his target, who responded, "Who do you think you are, attempting to arrest someone without valid proof?"

Halcir then unstrung his arrow and reached into his armor. From his sack, he produced a small packet of papers. "This is your authorization by the Union of Independent Provinces to engage in subversive activities detrimental to the Empire. I repeat, are you going to come quietly or are we going to have to drag you kicking and screaming to the prison?"

Now enraged, the Altmer cried, "I will not stand for the likes of this!" and produced a dagger. The guards flanking Halcir quickly slew him, and the crowd of townspeople was enraged, for unfortunately Halcir had not adequately studied the current events of the Imperial City prior to his operations. For many months now, the guard was cracking down on misdemeanour crimes, even inventing new laws on the spot, much to the anger of the local residents. This did nothing to assuage their anger. They began to proclaim that this was the last straw, and that the guards were corrupt, and that this was an act of police brutality. In the heat of the moment, a portion of the townspeople rushed the guards, and all hell broke loose. Halcir's men quickly and efficiently fanned out in the street, and quickly eliminated any civilians putting up resistance. Four were slain in this manner, and when the remaining three attackers fled, they were cut down with three efficient arrows from Halcir's bow, each one bearing the raven's feather that came to be Halcir's trademark. When the fighting was finished, Halcir quickly returned to the Legion offices to file a report with his account of what had happened, and later that night he returned to his sad little shack and awaited the inevitable.

Upon hearing news of the slayings, High Chancellor Ocato was furious, demanding that a tribunal be launched. The following day Halcir was dragged before the High Chancellor and told to testify.

The High Chancellor asked, "What brought you here, to Cyrodiil?"

He replied, "Ever since I was a young boy, I had dreams of joining the Imperial Legion, the finest fighting forces in the world."

With considerable ire, the High Chancellor said, "I appreciate your patriotism, but, with all due respect, ARE YOU INSANE? You have forever blemished the Imperial Watch, done nothing to assuage the fears and rage of the Empire borne towards her guards, and instead slew seven of her citizens! WHAT JUSTIFICATION DID YOU HAVE TO KILL ALENDIR?"

Halcir, who didn't even flinch under this stern barrage, reached into his armor and produced the same papers he had shown the day of the riots. "I introduce this as my evidence. It is Alendir's authorization by the Union of Independent Provinces to carry out subversive actions, violent if necessary, in order to unseat the Imperial government." He threw the papers down on the desk, and the guard brought them to the High Chancellor's desk. Of course, the papers were forged (actually almost an exact copy of his mission papers with a changed name), they were one of his required materials, but Imperial espionage agents experienced in dealing with rebellion wouldn't find that out until it was far too late. As Chancellor Ocato read the papers, his face went pale. "This tribunal is adjourned. I want an emergency meeting of the Council in the chambers. Now."

Later that day, when Halcir returned home, he received a letter from the king:

Halcir,

The Imperial palace has formally accused us of committing an act of war. Congratulations. Your orders are to leave the Imperial City permanently. Go to the Anvil docks. There will be a ship, "The Rose of the East", docked at one of the berths. You are to ask the man on board, "Is four hundred gold enough for a ticket?" He will respond with "It'll do." He will then give you an envelope. Do not open it until the ship is underway and has been underway for two hours.

The King

He immediately retrieved his belongings from the chest and went to the Chestnut Handy Stables, retrieving his horse. He rode on to Anvil, and boarded The Rose of the East, as per his orders. After two hours, he opened the envelope, which contained a note:

Go up on deck.

Halcir, slightly puzzled with the mundane request, complied and climbed the stairs to the upper deck, where a sight of sights awaited him.

A huge fleet was assembled before his eyes, and eventually The Rose of the East docked alongside the flagship, the Independence. Waiting on deck was King Felician and a band of Altmer marines and sailors. From the deck of each ship a battle cry was raised, until silenced with a wave of the king's hand. King Felician began to speak, "Brothers! Countrymen! The day of liberation is at hand! Rise up, for today, we sail into history!" The short edict had an explosive effect on the men, who roared with a ferocity Halcir had never seen before.

"I take it we're going to war, my liege?"

"Yes, we're going to war, Halcir. We're going to war."


	3. Chapter 3: Black Sunrise

PART THREE: BLACK SUNRISE

The king turned to Halcir and asked, "Would you join me in the bridge for a moment?"

Halcir, having never seen a war room before, was delighted at the proposal, although he didn't allow it to show, and he followed him into the bridge. There, a large map of Tamriel lay on a table, covered in thumbtacks. The king brought Halcir to the table and showed him his plans.

"The incident you caused was perfect. The Summerset palace was able to deny any involvement with this organization and in turn accuse the Imperial palace of an act of war. Our navy sailed two days before the riots, and has been lying in wait off of Anvil ever since. Now, we obviously can't topple the Empire by ourselves, so I called on some old friends." Here he began interacting with the map, indicating troop positions. "The Khajiiti forces here and here, in Elsweyr, along with the Argonians, not too far to the west, are poised to sweep westward and eastward respectively once our operation is complete. They will cut off the city of Leyawiin, hopefully capturing it quickly but laying siege if necessary. The Bosmer, here, will march north to Kvatch. As you know, it was rebuilt not too long ago, and the guards are all inexperienced settlers, which will make things easy. The Bretons and Orcs of High Rock along with the Redguards of Hammerfell are going to go to Chorrol and Bruma. Bruma is the main problem here, though. Because it is surrounded by mountains on all sides, it is extremely difficult to reach, so those forces will be moving rather slowly. The Nords and the Dunmer have the largest task in this war. There were many Imperial Legionnaires stationed in Morrowind after their ill-fated rebellion. They're still there to this day. The remnants of the Dunmer rebels are going to do their best to sabotage, disrupt and demoralize the Imperial forces there, while the Nords will blitz southward, both capturing Cheydinhal and effectively cutting off the retreat of the trapped legions in Morrowind."

Halcir took it all in for a moment. He had to admit, the plan was perfect. "And our job is?"

The king smiled. "Well, our forces are considerably larger than those of our allies. While landing in Anvil, we are to march west, and our final goal is the Imperial City. At first, our allies will denounce our actions, but once the brunt of the Legion is engaging us or on their way to engage us, then they spring the trap."

"And you would be telling me this…why?"

"It will be crucial to your operations in the coming months. I don't think I need to remind you that this information is top secret, and as such you can never allow yourself to fall into enemy hands. Take your life if necessary."

The door to the bridge creaked open, and a tall Altmer soldier said, "My liege? Ten minutes."

"Excellent," the king replied as he strode out on the deck, with Halcir in tow.

As the soldiers assembled on the decks of the warships of the fleet, the valleys and hills of the Gold Coast came into view, and more importantly, the walls and docks of the city of Anvil. The king gave the order to load the launches and to form a battle line, and slowly yet ominously both the ships and soldiers of Summerset Isle fulfilled these orders. When everything was ready, the king gave but eight words at nine thirty AM on the 9th of Last Seed, 3E 438.

"Commence firing. Operation Black Sunrise is a go."

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"Now what the hell do you suppose that is out there?" Timothee LaRouche wondered aloud to his friends, who were debating the existence of a monster who supposedly inhabited the vicinity of Dive Rock.

"Beats the hell out of me," Varulae replied. "Must be the Imperial Navy doing training exercises. Look, they're even using dummy flares this time." he remarked casually.

Like the rage of an angry god, the battlemages stationed aboard the Summerset vessels raked the walls, docks, lighthouse and castle of Anvil with a new kind of incendiary explosive spell, known in the provinces as the Rebellion Cannon. Thrown from the barrels they were sitting on, LaRouche and his shipmates were left in a daze after the first cannonade. It was gro-Brok, another crewman of the Serpent's Wake, who came to first. He had no idea who or what was happening, but his days of youth in the Imperial Navy came flooding back to him. Instinctively, he heaped his two friends over his shoulders and made a mad dash for the city walls. He placed his friends by the inside walls and screamed "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" A small wave of panic swept over the civilians, but it soon passed and the community was galvanized into action. A first-aid tent was set up in The Count's Arms, and Varel Morvayn opened his shop, encouraging passersby to take a weapon free of charge.

On the waterfront, however, it was a much more grisly tale. The few reports that did drift through from the guard towers were none too comforting. "Harbour fired upon by unknown enemy. Heavy casualties." "Lighthouse has been razed." "Three survivors from docks thus far." "Castle walls in bad shape, barely holding up". There were indeed few survivors from the docks; many were caught inside buildings when the fusillade began, and burned to death from the Rebellion Cannon's searing heat. Men like Norbert Lelles, the fair and kindly shopkeeper, and women like Mirabelle Monet, the bright innkeeper. The lighthouse keeper was never seen again; it was presumed he was lost when the tower fell. The Castle guards adopted a much more sly tactic; knowing that stone could not burn, they hunkered down in the ruins of the castle and allowed the Cannon to rain on the walls while they remained largely safe. The bombardment lasted for close to 20 minutes, and when it was seen that no more good could be done from the bombardment, the Summerset fleet simply waited for the flames to eat through the docks and die. When they did finally die, the most discouraging reports of all came through to the defenders of Anvil: "Invasion flotilla sighted launching from enemy fleet. Numbers unknown. Prepare for battle."

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In Launch Number Four, Captain Trevaiathir of the 699th Summerset Legion stood at the front of the boat, urging his men to paddle faster, for Talos only knew what kind of reception was preparing to fire upon the launches. He needn't have worried; the guardsmen in the towers weren't good enough to shoot that far or that accurately. Nonetheless, he continued to scream, "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY PARTY? I WANT THIS BOAT MOVING SO DAMNED FAST THAT IT CAN OUTRUN ANY ARROW FIRED IN THE SAME DIRECTION!" His tirades had a humourous effect on the men, and not two minutes later the soldiers of the 12 Battalion, 699th Summerset Legion were the first hostile troops to invade Imperial soil in the Great Independence War. They quickly formed up with six other launches and patiently but nervously waited for other friendly troops to arrive.

Inside the walls of Anvil, both the civilian and military defenders could hear the rough shouts of the invaders. This angered and frightened them; angered them to know that the enemy was on their soil, frightened to not know who this enemy was, how numerous he was, or how dangerous he was. The Captain of the Guard, Hieronymus Lex, stood before the defenders of Anvil, and spoke. His voice carried over the shouts of the invaders, and over the heavy, apprehensive breathing of the beleaguered defenders. "Ladies and gentlemen. I do not know what in blazes has just happened out there. I do not know who has brought this terrible wrath down upon us. I do not know why this terrible wrath has been incurred upon those who deserve it least. But what I do know is that for however long as that flag flies over this city, this is my Empire. This is my world, and this is my home. We will fight to the last man to defend it. This is our Empire!" And as he finished, frenzied shouts struck up from the docks, ones that some of the civilians recognized as their fathers, their husbands, their brothers, their sons. They were the shouts of the Castle Guard, hopping mad and ready to come out swinging.

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Lieutenant Akilindir, de facto commander of the remnants of the Castle Guard, was the first to show his face that Last Seed morning. He scrambled atop a flattened slab of wall and quickly drew his sword, holding it up for both his men in the basement of the castle and the guardsmen in the city towers to see. He gave a loud roar, one which would penetrate the hearts and minds of the Empire until the war was over: "DEFENDERS! TO THE RAMPARTS OF YOUR EMPIRE!" Thirty guardsmen, the only survivors of the waterfront barrage save for LaRouche and his shipmates, stood and raised their bows, a testament to the claws that the wounded lion still had at the ready. "FIRE!" The arrows ripped into the ranks of the dumbstruck Altmer, killing many and injuring few. The result was absolute chaos. As the enemy rallied and began marching on the castle, the guardsmen took their positions along the bridge, prepared to fight to the last man.

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"What the hell is going on out there?" the king asked, demanding information.

"Sir, it would appear that a small battalion of fighters has survived our barrage and is now engaging our landed forces."

"Damnit, I thought I told you men to focus on the Castle!

"We did, sir. The defenders simply crawled underneath the rubble and waited.

The king, annoyed at the fact that he had been made a fool of, delivered a stern order to the adjutant. "Send the second wave ashore."

"…This early, sir?"

"YES, THIS EARLY! IF I SAY IT, YOU DAMN WELL DO IT! UNDERSTOOD?"

The adjutant quickly shrank back to the deck and ran up some signal flags.

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"Look at him! Green as an Orc!" Halcir heard one of the men jeer as he strolled along the decks. Upon hearing the peals of laughter, he examined the young man. He was seasick. Badly. His comrades eventually whisked him off to the sick bay, and, sensing an opportunity, Halcir spoke with the sergeant.

"That boy who was just carried off. Does he need a replacement?"

"Doesn't need one, but if you're volunteering, far be it from me to stop you."

"Good. I'm going ashore with you."

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As the defenders of Castle Anvil fought their pitched battle with some elements of the 699th who had landed too far east by accident, Lieutenant Akilindir was distracted by a collection of slow moving dots in the sea. He didn't need to be told what they were. With lightning speed he gathered six of his best archers, unslung his own bow and led them to the other side of the island which used to hold the castle.

As the launches lumbered into the dying city, Halcir remarked to himself how it would have been so much faster if they had scrapped the launches altogether and just swam to shore. The familiar WHOOSH of an arrow sliced through the midday air, and Halcir was quick to ready his bow and draw an arrow. The enemy shot had peeled through two allies; one of them the sergeant he spoke to not seven minutes ago, the other one of the men who had been rowing the boat. Both were killed. Halcir quickly shouted, "YOU THERE! MAN THAT OAR! ALL OTHER BOSMER OR TOP-NOTCH SHARPSHOOTERS, TARGET THE SNIPERS ON THAT ISLAND!" Another arrow ripped through the boat, this time wounding one young Altmer. "No! Mother! Please, I'm too young to die!" he wailed as he looked down at his leg, which was leaking a ghastly amount of deep purplish blood. Several other marines vomited. Halcir, undeterred by this setback, dropped two of the enemy archers with his black raven arrows, and a third fell by the hand of another. This seemed to be the warning Halcir intended, for the enemy quickly withdrew to the other side of the island.

"Gentlemen! Listen up!" Lieutenant Akilindir barked as he addressed the ever-dwindling group of survivors, now down to 15. They were taking a short break after dispatching the fragments of the 699th that came their way. "Congratulations for holding off the enemy. We now have 3 options we can pursue. Option 1: Stay here, and get our asses kicked when those boats" – here he paused as he pointed to the incoming flotilla – "land on our backsides. Option 2: Go in through that gate and reinforce the town garrison. Option 3: Nab that boat and go up the river to Skingrad to summon help." There was much turmoil between the men. Some of them felt bound by honor to die defending the castle that was their homes. Others felt bound by duty to reinforce the garrison (but, as a young private pointed out, their jurisdiction was the castle and its grounds only). However, in a few moments it was begrudgingly agreed by the men that going for help were how they would best be of use. They all piled into one of the nearby launches that the 699th had used, but not before Akilindir procured the top part of the flagpole that used to fly atop the castle. Fastening the flag to the rear of the boat, the launch set out unnoticed by the enemy, headed for the Strid River. She was a beautiful sight, although a tragically depressing one, and there was not one man in the launch whose face was not slick with tears.

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When the second wave of launches landed, the officers held a short council of war. It was decided that the remnants of the 699th, under Captain Trevaiathir, would go to the gate connecting the castle and the town and wait for the signal to attack. The newly landed 404th Summerset Legion, under Captain Varso Romulus, would attempt to break through the dock gate, while the 224th Summerset Battlemage Legion, under Captain Balen Tuonas, would wait at the main gate for the signal to attack. The soldiers of the 404th and the 699th quickly selected trees and with expert speed debarked and stripped them of foliage, turning them into battering rams. They then were ordered to stand by while the battlemages of the 224th wreaked havoc.

The Anvil tower guardsmen saw that they were being outflanked, and although they fired arrows down from the towers, they could not prevent the enemy from maneuvering due to a complete absence of troops on the ground outside the city walls. The strain of the maneuvers began to show on the defenders inside, constantly changing their positions and splitting up to address potential breaches of the fortress in accord with the reports streaming from the towers. When the enemy was ready to begin, there was little that could be done to stop it. The 224th rained fire down from the skies and into the garrison, killing some, striking fear into the hearts of others. However, the situation was salvaged by Hieronymus Lex, who banded together the defenders and kept morale from falling dangerously low. But no amount of pep talk could have substituted for the feeling of pride welling up in the bottom of the collective heart of Anvil when thunder was heard out at sea, along with the report: "Imperial Navy engaging invaders."

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Admiral Crux Dorina of the 2nd Imperial Fleet was awestruck upon meeting what was left of Anvil. After assessing the situation from the bridge of the Imperial Glory, he gave the order for his flotilla of seven ships to open fire. He did manage to sink one of the enemy and to badly cripple another, but the mammoth fleet of 25 ships turned to face him. "Right full rudder! All ahead flank!" "Full ahead flank, aye sir!" The admiral decided to play a desperate gamble; running into the enemy fleet head on, attempting to break up their formation in a harrowing game of chicken.

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"What do you mean they're heading this way?" King Felician asked the helmsman, with a clipped and annoyed tone.

"They're attempting to break through our lines, sir."

"Hmm. All right. Let's get out of his way, then."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. But make sure our mages are ready."

"Aye aye, sir." The Independence made a hasty turn, and the other ships of the fleet followed suit.

"Got 'em," the Admiral said with a smile as he sailed into the gap.

"Got 'em," King Felician said with a smile as the enemy waltzed into the cunning trap. "Open fire." Multiple Rebellion Cannons ripped through the hull of the Imperial Glory, both rendering it useless, immobile and a liability to its allies, for it was now blocking their route through the enemy. One by one the ships all piled up on one another, and each one was finished off methodically by Summerset Cannon fire. This time there were no reports for the defenders, for the guardsmen manning the towers knew that they would be of much better use trying to hold off the invaders, who were now pounding at the city gates.

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With a thunderous crash and a great splintering of wood, the 404th smashed its way through the dock gates. The archers, needing no order to fire, let their deadly flying knives soar through the enemy ranks, killing the first attackers, but still more surged through the gap, and when they did finally descend on the ranks of archers, who, by some terrible mistake, were in the front ranks and not behind the protection of the swordsmen, they were slaughtered, and casualties abounded until the melee troops could rush forward and even the score. The Summerset invaders and the Anvil defenders traded men for the better part of an hour in a vicious battle, but when Lex realized that he could not keep this trading game up for long due to his limited supply of fighters, he screamed for the mages of the Guild to cover their retreat, and the defenders surged into whatever houses or buildings were close at hand, leaving the attackers afraid of what lay behind every door, and angry that they had been outwitted.

Meanwhile, the 699th, which was robbed of its chance to take the rear of the enemy line, broke through the castle gate. They were surprised to find the city deserted, save for the 404th, which was clustered together in a large group to avoid a deadly ambush. The two units scuttled over to the main gate, which they unbarred, and the 224th Battlemages slipped into the city. The commanders held another hurried council of war, and decided to clear out the city, one building at a time. They began with the cathedral. Opening its heavy doors, they found only children and the elderly, and those who were either physically or mentally unable to fight. A private standing beside Captain Romulus asked nervously, "Orders, sir?"

After a quick silence, he replied.

"Spare no one."

"Yes, sir."

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The shrieks and cries of the defenseless citizens roused the defenders from their hidden positions, and they poured into the streets, now ready to avenge their dead. Their battle cries drew the attention of the invaders, who quickly assumed a defensive position in the street. The pitifully small contingent of resistance fighters plunged into the ranks of the enemy, not realizing that they had sprinted into the jaws of a trap. The 699th, while holding the defenders in their places, instructed the 404th to flank them, which they did by way of backyards and fence gates. Realizing now that it was a trap, Hieronymus Lex and his four surviving companions backed into a circle, and in this manner the five held off the invaders for three full minutes. This short reprieve was ended by a hail of arrows, which cut down the entire contingent, killing them all. Hieronymus Lex's last memory was of an arrow with a trail as black as night rushing to strike him in the throat.

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It was in this manner that the Battle of Anvil ended, with a decisive Summerset victory, and all that night victory celebrations were held in the ruined city. Not one citizen survived the onslaught, save for Lieutenant Akilindir and his 14 guards, who had now sailed up the Strid with unparalleled speed and were now pounding on the gates of Skingrad Castle, demanding to see the Count. He was found at the top of the keep, field glasses in hand, and as he turned to address the Anvil guardsmen, words failed him. He simply handed the lieutenant his field glasses, and with them Lieutenant Akilindir surveyed what was left of Anvil. The city was a smoldering ruin, and inside it drunken soldiers were celebrating their victory. He saw not a single civilian, nor anyone he once knew in the city, but he did see a small collection of refugees from the nearby farms on the highway, obviously seeing that there was nothing to be gained from staying except a possible early grave. He then turned his attention to the flagstaff from which flew the Anvil colors. Two strange flags flew from the mast, the first, a black affair with a bright white star in the middle which he did not recognize, but the second one he knew right away. "Dammit, DAMMIT; THAT BASTARD!" he shouted, his voice rising to a yell as he recognized their attackers as the High Elves of Summerset Isle. "It's worse than we thought," the Count said gravely. "What's the Council going to do about this?" Akilindir asked, and here the Count produced a letter. "See for yourself," he advised, handing it to him. It was an express notice that war had been declared on Summerset Isle, who had proclaimed itself a nation and attacked the Empire. "What are the rest of the provinces doing?" Akilindir asked. The Count replied, "They are backing us fully." "Excellent," breathed Akilindir. "We have another order of business that we must attend to, Your Excellency." "What might that be?" the Count asked, willing to help the orphaned guardsmen. "Are there any nearby Legion units we can link up with? We're too small to serve as a unit now," the lieutenant said. "As a matter of fact, the elite 7th Imperial Guards is currently stationed here. They arrived shortly after the fighting began, just in case they marched here afterwards. They saw the flames from the Imperial City." Somewhat annoyed at the fact that help had been within arm's reach during the desperate fight for his city, Akilindir thanked him for his time and walked down to the Skingrad gate, intent on joining the Guards and rejoining the fight for his homeland, which was just beginning.

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Halcir, twirling one of his signature raven feather shafted arrows between his fingertips, reflected on the day's events, undaunted by the raucous party around him. His mind kept drifting back to the Anvil castle archer, and there his thoughts dwelled for some time until they were roused by a letter dropped at his table in The Count's Arms. It read:

Halcir,

Meet me aboard the Independence ASAP. There is a boat at the shore waiting.

The King

Sensing another mission was close at hand, he gathered his bow and his arrows and set off for the Independence. Lieutenant Akilindir was indeed correct: the fight for the Empire was indeed lit, and it was only a matter of time before the fuse ran out.


End file.
